


To Know Him

by coley_merrin



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, First Time, Fluff, Nonbinary Character, Other, Smut, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 14:08:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12170436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coley_merrin/pseuds/coley_merrin
Summary: When Joonha's childhood friend returns, there's one thing neither of them have forgotten: that Jongin had promised to marry her.





	To Know Him

**Author's Note:**

> Just a note that Jongin is non-binary in the story~ I was grateful to have a friend who is non-binary look it over also. <3

***

Joonha fled out of the house, ducking through part of the stone wall and almost gasping in relief to see Jungah sitting on the bench they met at. Dressed in pink and white, Jungah grinned when she spotted Joonha approaching.

“I almost thought you weren’t coming!”

“My mother wanted to talk to us about my brother getting married. It’s so boring! And my brother said I’d have to marry someone _old_ and _mean_ ,” Joonha whined, collapsing onto the bench next to Jungah.

“You shouldn’t have to! Your dad won’t make you!” Jungah said. “And if he does then... Then. Then I’ll marry you!”

Joonha’s head lifted in hope for a moment before she deflated again. “But you’re a girl!”

“That’s what my mom says. I have to wear this, because I’m a girl! I have to walk slower, because I’m a girl! But it’d be fun! I’d bring you flowers, and make you tea, and…” Jungah leaned forward, whispering. “And kiss you on the _mouth_.”

“On the mouth!” Joonha nearly whispered, elapsing into giggles.

“My parents do that sometimes. I’d be a good husband! Better than some mean old man. We could have our own house and everything.”

“And pick what to eat!” Joonha sighed, feeling way less worried than she had before. Since her brother was getting married, he was probably teasing. Maybe he was scared, and it served him right. If she was going to have a husband, he’d have to be nice, and young like her, and fun. She watched as Jungah wove flowers together in a circle, wiggling her feet and wishing she didn’t have to go back soon.

“Look, it’s a crown. Since I made it for you…” Jungah put the flower crown on Joonha’s head with utmost care. “There, now we’re married.”

That wasn’t at all how weddings went, and they laughed, leaning in together and linking hands.

“Then you can’t marry anyone else,” Joonha said.

Jungah shook her head, and she leaned in closer, tilting a little and looking up. “Can we…?”

“Since we’re married!” Joonha laughed, a little breathless with how close Jungah was, flushing because she wasn’t sure want to expect.

But Jungah smiled, squeezing her hand and leaning in. Their lips bumped and pressed and they burst out laughing, shoulders knocking together and making plans for their new house.

“We’ll have a dog, and a cat, and ducks!”

“And a pond with fish,” Jungah said.

“And we won’t have to wake up just because it gets light. And burn the lamps as long as we want!”

“Joonha!”

Joonha gasped, standing up.

“My mother! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Their hands were the last things that parted, and Joonha cradled the flower crown, leaving it safely in her room. Until it dried and was tucked away, she smiled every time she saw it.

***

Joonha tried to stay as still as possible, listening through the closed door. The household had been in an uproar for over a day, because of the arrival of a stranger. She hadn’t seen him, but her maid had, telling her he’d been young and handsome. Then the proposal letter had come, and Joonha’s stomach had swooped and fallen both. It terrified her, that her parents were considering it. It made her curious, who the man had been. She didn’t know _anything_ and she knew her parents would chase her away if she knew.

“She’s well old enough to take a husband,” her father said. “Even if his family is gone, I understand him wanting to create his own. And I rode by the house his household is in. There are no doubts of his funds or quality. I question that I would deny him at all.”

“But how did he know of her? What are his connections? Surely—“

There was a hiss, and Joonha scrambled back, letting a servant approach with tea for her parents. The door would stay open then, and Joonha made her way down the hall, letting herself out of the house and stepping into her shoes. It didn’t make sense. It kind of made her want to throw her clothes in a bag and run away, but that was an even worse choice. She’d end up stuck in a bog, or falling down a cliff. She lifted her skirts, slipping through the gap in the wall so she could let the ducks on the pond relieve her mind.

But she froze, when a man stood from the bench at the edge of the water, and felt behind her for the edge of the stones, and the stick she kept there in case wild dogs got in.

“This is— This is not public land. You can’t be here.”

“Joonha?”

He was considering her so strangely, and she took a step back before she thought again. The man asking to marry her was young. This man was young, his face bare like a boy, and he was well dressed.

“I am, but I can’t speak to you. Please, you must—“

“Joonha… Do you remember me?”

Joonha stared, looking the man up and down. “Remember you?”

“We used to play together, as children.”

“I never had a boy as a playmate,” Joonha said. Whatever memories he insinuated were clearly lies. She wanted to run, and yet, he didn’t really make her afraid. “You need to leave.”

“You married me once. So you wouldn’t have to marry a mean, old man.”

Joonha’s hands tightened on the stick in her hands, looking back at the man. Truly looking at him. The shape of his eyes. Of his mouth. His jaw. He— 

“Jungah?” Joonha whispered.

The smile, that solidified it, and Joonha didn’t know if she wanted to take a step back or forward. Jungah had moved, a couple of seasons after their “wedding.” She’d lost a friend and a playmate, and had never heard from Jungah after that, no matter how much she’d begged of her father to find her.

“I live by Jongin, now, as I am.”

It wasn’t possible, and yet, her eyes, and her ears couldn’t deny it.

“How did you… How?” Joonha waved her hand, gesturing at the clothes Jungah - Jongin? - was wearing.

Jungah nodded a moment, pressing her lips together. “My parents died a year or two after we left here. At first, I dressed like this for safety? But… You know how much I hated the restrictions of being a girl. Like this I could do what I wanted, be _who_ I wanted. Be someone who could come back here, and marry you.”

“Is that even possible?” Joonha was still reeling.

“It is. I have no family. No one to tell my secret. And two people like us can be lovers, if they wish. I learned that after I changed, too.”

Joonha wanted to cover her cheeks to hide the burning at the frank words, and appreciated the distance between them that helped keep her grasp on herself.

“But you— Are you a man now? How do I call you?”

“Most times. You should call me Jongin. He is who I am. Though, there are times? I feel very close to Jungah, like it’s a different reflection inside me, and sometimes it hurts to think of back then or hear that name. It’s hard to explain.”

Jongin shrugged again, and it was so familiar that Joonha almost wanted to reach forward and pull him into a hug. Jongin, then. If that was who he thought of himself as, Joonha knew she had to adjust her thoughts to that, even though Jongin said Jungah was still in there, too. She didn’t _understand_ but it made sense, that being Jongin was safer than traveling alone as a woman. The person in front of her was still her friend. One she’d missed.

Tears welled unexpectedly, and Joonha darted forward, throwing her arms around Jongin’s ribs.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Jongin gently held her back, hand quiet and slow, rubbing against the center of her back. Her eyes opened, staring over the top of Jongin’s shoulder. “You’re… You’re the one who asked to marry me?”

“I promised you,” Jongin said, letting her go far enough so that they could look at each other. “Right here. I promised I’d never marry anyone else. I thought, if you were married when I returned…? But you weren’t, so I still had a chance.”

“My father said you’ve bought a house? I have so many questions. I—“

“Joonha.” Her name, said so softly, and Jongin’s warm fingers on her cheek had her face going hot. “You’re still the same.”

They were close, too close, and she couldn’t think, too aware Jongin was right _there_ and looking at her. Jungah had come back! She had so many memories, but there had been so many changes, and she didn’t know how to think, what to do.

“I just needed to see you. Can I see you again? I want to tell you everything about how I came to be here,” Jongin asked.

“Tomorrow. Around this time, here?“ Joonha suggested. Maybe then they’d be able talk, and she’d have her answers. And to sort out all the conflicting feelings fighting in her as she ducked back through the wall, and left Jongin behind.

***

Joonha slipped from the house with a cloth to spread on the ground, and food wrapped up inside of it. Against the gap in the wall, on a piece of wood, she placed a bell - a warning just like she’d used to place when she would sneak away to read. With her finger against her lips, she led Jongin beyond the pond, where he could get away if anyone thought to look for her. She’d wanted to run to him and hug him again, and shied from it, and hardly understood it herself.

“My mother asked me what I thought of marriage, if my father agrees to the proposal,” Joonha said as Jongin helped her spread out the cloth. “Kim Jongin the mysterious land owner! She was worried you had no family, but I asked… How would you make one if you couldn’t marry?”

“Then they’re still thinking?”

“They are. I think they’d tell me if they decided against it.” Joonha settled on the cloth, and waited for Jongin to sit and join her. “Or maybe you’d know first, I don’t know.”

“And what you’ve decided?”

“Me?”

Jongin nodded. “You have a lot of power. You could tell them who I used to be, and it would stop everything.”

“Oh, Jungah, I wouldn’t do—“ Joonha gasped, covering her mouth. “Jongin! I’m so sorry.”

She couldn’t _say_ that name. Someone could overhear. Even sitting with Jongin was a danger, but that intensified it. It would make someone wonder, put Jongin in danger. Some of it she didn’t understood. If Jongin was Jungah, they could meet without worry. Her parents would be happy for her to reconnect with her friend. But it seemed like Jongin didn’t _want_ to be Jungah. That was something she maybe hadn’t understood.

Jongin took her wrist, tugged her hand down, leaving his hand gently ringed against her skin. “It’s all right. I’ve had a lot longer to get used to it than you. It must be hard for you to try and understand. You must have questions.”

Joonha sat, and questions she had no shortage of, but how to ask she didn’t know.

“It’s okay,” Jongin said. “I want you to know everything. Asking can’t hurt me.”

“Will you be Jongin forever?” Joonha asked. And though she wanted to look away, though the question made her want to squirm, she sat, letting Jongin still hold her wrist gently and pause a moment as he thought. It was a connection, that touch, and it kept her insides from wanting to flutter away.

“Forever is a long time, but it isn’t something I can see changing. There are really _few_ moments I think of myself as Jungah, and if I ever do, I would tell you.. The thought of not being Jongin, and not being a man, it makes me afraid? It makes me feel like I don’t know who I am, or how to live. Jungah… Jungah may not be around much.”

“And calling you that, it hurts you?” Joonha asked.

“It’s really startling to hear, because no one has called me that for so long. It’s almost as if I’m getting pulled into the past. It does hurt, because back then I wasn’t able to be who I felt I was.” Jongin settled closer, frowning a little and starting again. “Think of it like this… Think of your father. He’s always been a man. No one would question that. But what if one day he started wanting to wear your mother’s clothes, and called himself a different name, and asked you to call him mother?”

Joonha’s face spoke for her as she tried to think of that ever happening. Her father! And Jongin laughed.

“It’d be strange, right? But maybe if that happened, that’s how he felt he was. I might not have been born a man like your father, but most days everything in me feels like I was. I feel like… Even back when we were younger, I wanted to be your husband. I knew, even back then, that something was different in me. And I still feel it. When I wake up, I don’t think “today I will be a man!” Because I know I am one in every part of me. I used to wonder a lot, wondering if it was just what I wore, or if it was a lie. But I understand myself better this way. Do you wake wondering if you’ll be a woman?”

“No, I don’t. I think I…I think I understand more now,” Joonha said. It went so much deeper than she’d even imagined, and the way he explained it, it made more sense. And she said his name softly, almost like she knew it truly for the first time. “Jongin. Thank you for telling me, and I’m sorry.”

Jongin shook his head. “You don’t have to be. If you ever want to ask anything, just tell me. You have to be especially careful around your family, but between us, I’m happy you’re trying to understand. To know you know who I was… I was afraid. I should be thanking you, Joonha.”

He was so brave. It was like he had the two names mingled in him somehow, and one might only show itself at times. Maybe when Jongin felt safe? If it was just them, at least, she hoped Jongin would feel he could be however he felt he was. It was like he was warning her he might not feel as though he was Jungah very much, or not at all, and she didn’t want to lie to herself about it. Her head was buzzing too fast to think of it, but she did know in the hours apart, she’d let herself think too much of Jongin as Jungah. Clinging to thoughts of the past they shared, when she needed to know she could think of him as Jongin, speak of him as Jongin, begin to know him as Jongin. 

“I’m happy you want to talk to me about it,” Joonha said.

“I couldn’t wait until after the wedding! That would have been a cruel surprise!” Jongin said.

He was grinning, but there was a heavy look in his eyes that made Joonha sad. He’d been afraid. Afraid she would push him away, or reject him, or mock him. And maybe she didn’t know _everything_ and maybe she was still trying to understand, but the love for her friend didn’t differ. She didn’t _want_ to hurt him. She wanted to mend her thoughts to protect him. To think of him as he knew himself, so she could know him, too.

“Or a wonderful one! To know you’d come back for me!”

When Jongin would have let her arm go, Joonha clasped his hand in hers, keeping him close. Showing him without words, maybe, she wasn’t leaving.

“Only if you wanted me to,” Jongin said.

“I used to lie at night and think of you coming back. But I never thought it could be like this.”

The smile Jongin shared with her, it had her fumbling for the wrapped sweets she’d brought with her with her free hand.

“I remember you used to like these a lot,” Joonha said. And grinned because the expressions Jongin made as he put a piece of fruit in his mouth was everything her memories had held for her.

The piece he offered for her, his lips curved as she took it and ate it, and she couldn’t help but grin back, almost wiggling where she sat. Jongin was…cute. There was a lean power to how he dressed, a form she wouldn’t have questioned if she hadn’t known. His face had become finer, as he aged. With the hairstyle and clothes of a man, and he was…very handsome. What would have been beautiful as a woman was striking as a man. The name was easier to reconcile. He was who he was, was what her mind kept coming back to. Jongin, not living as a man, or pretending, but being one?

Which meant she was holding a man’s hand! And she didn’t want to let go of it, wrapping her fingers even more tightly around Jongin’s. It was warm and solid and real, and even while admiring Jongin’s fingers, she didn’t want the silence to be interpreted as awkward, even if he was still happily eating.

“Do you like your house?” Joonha asked, and watched as Jongin nodded.

“I do. There are only a few servants, but enough to be comfortable. I knew your father would want to know I have a home for you, so I bought the best I could. If you don’t like it, we’ll buy another. Or build one?”

“Are you a prince now?” Joonha gasped, eyeing him.

Jongin laughed. “There was a man, who helped me when my father died. My father’s man of business. He protected me while I made my plans, and we able to make sure I received the money my father had been owed. And from the home we had as well. I was able to use that to make more. I remember you wanted a lot of ducks.”

He _smirked_ at her.

“Just a few is fine,” Joonha mumbled. “What?” 

Joonha only just resisted the urge to touch her face to check if it was dirty because he was looking at her so intently, tilting his head like a little owl.

Jongin looked down, laughing for a moment before glancing back up. “You’re just…really beautiful. You always were.”

She didn’t know what to do, how to breathe, what to say. She leaned to him, pressing her face against his shoulder so he wouldn’t have to see how she blushed.

“You smell good,” Joonha said. Returning a compliment for a compliment, and one that was true. She wanted to stay there and breathe Jongin in, and not have to leave the trees, or the quiet wind. To go back to the gnawing worry in the house, of what her parents might decide. They could run away together. But she didn’t want that. 

“Did you mean it? That you would never tell your parents about me?” Jongin asked.

“I would never,” Joonha said, shaking her head against his shoulder.

“If they agree… If you ever decide you don’t want this, will you tell me? I can break the contract and leave. Make an excuse. I might not be a mean, old man, but I don’t want to be a man who forces you to marry when you don’t want to.”

“I’ll tell you, I promise,” Joonha said.

Jongin laughed, his breath puffing against her hair. “It makes me feel greedy to think that I hope if they accept, and that you still want to, that the date that gets set can be soon,” Jongin sighed. “It’d be nice to have a summer wedding.”

A summer wedding, with Jongin. To dress for him, and bow for him, and leave with him. And be his wife.

Jongin wanted to be her husband.

“A summer wedding would be beautiful. Can we… Can we meet again?” Joonha lifted her head, regretting leaving the warmth of him. “I should go back before I’m missed.”

“I have business tomorrow. But the day after?”

It wouldn’t be soon enough, but it would do. Jongin was stiff with surprise, when Joonha hugged him, a breathless goodbye and an awkward, quick hug that she carried with her all the way back to the house. In her room, her mind was still whirling as she hugged a pillow instead, resting her cheek on it. But it didn’t smell of Jongin.

***

The wait seemed endless. It made Joonha toss and turn the night before Jongin was supposed to return to visit, dreaming in fretful snatches of forgetting to meet him, of him not being there. Of him maybe never returning ever again. Jongin wouldn’t have come to meet her, taken that risk, if he hadn’t planned to stay, and she repeated that to herself, until she was able to sleep again.

When she finally broke from the house with a book in her arms, there was a flower on the bench that she darted toward. There was no note, or anything with it, just a flower that was otherwise out of place in the garden. And she clutched it to her, smiling when she saw Jongin emerge from behind a tree. She hadn’t been able to smuggle out food, but she didn’t think Jongin would mind.

Nor did he turn her away when she pressed against him. “I’ve been worrying through the night and all day that I would miss you.”

“You didn’t,” Jongin said. “I would have stayed until tomorrow if you hadn’t come.”

Joonha laughed, hugging him tighter. “Was the flower to let me know you were here?”

“And because I hoped you’d like it.”

Her little sound of embarrassment had Jongin laughing and stroking gentle against her back. “Let’s sit. I have a lot to tell you.”

They sat, knee to knee, facing each other, Jongin telling her of his day the day before, of settling his accounts and deepening his ties to his home. Another servant. A cook who would stay instead of just being temporary.

“Do your servants know? About you?”

“I have one who does, who leads the household. He is a man whose…preference is to men? As mine is to women. So we trust each other with those secrets. Others might know, eventually. You would be part of that decision, too,” Jongin said. His smile was tense. “Since it could be your life disrupted too, if someone found out who shouldn’t.”

“Has anyone ever discovered that you… That your…” Joonha stopped, her mind not thinking of a way to say it without making it sound wrong.

“That my body is different than they expected?” Jongin asked. “Yes. Not often, but I learned to be more careful. I always tried to move on quickly when I could, to avoid attention. It got easier, as I got older. I wasn’t quite as slight. Sometimes I’d rub a little ash above my lip to make it look as though I hadn’t shaved.”

How clever! And how frightening it had to have been for Jongin alone, so young and worried. Not just of being found out, but of what people would do.

“They won’t wonder when I’m with you,” Joonha said.

“One time, someone found out about me, and it’s what led me here,” Jongin said softly. “When I told you that people like us could be lovers, that’s how I found out. A woman who’d been flirting with me caught me in the bath without my binding once, and she… I thought she was going to scream! But she taught me a lot of things about my body, and about hers. It made me realize I might be able to have all the things I thought were impossible that I’d wanted. I could have a wife, and love her! And be a husband. And that opened my eyes. There were a few other women after that who admired me, and I learned a lot from them, too.”

Jongin’s smile, directed out into the trees, was a secret smile, and Joonha was caught between too many conflicting feelings. Embarrassment, at the images that entered her head of Jongin kissing women, being naked with women. A wish to push those women out of Jongin’s life entirely with a stomp of her foot. And a strange, twisting yearning to know more about what Jongin meant, about what he’d learned.

“Did you wish to marry them?” Joonha asked, hating that she needed to know.

Jongin shook his head. “I didn’t. Two of them were already married? Including the woman who taught me so much. The others were a widow, and a tavern girl.”

“A tavern girl! You mean…?” Joonha said, shocked.

“She was. I think she sensed I was different than the rest of the men in the tavern? It was like she was drawn to me. And she cried, because she’d never been treated gently like that. I didn’t want to marry her, but I _did_ want to save her. I gave her money, so she could get away. I hope she did, because I didn’t see her again.”

Jongin’s fist was clenching and releasing, as he told the story, remembered it. And Joonha put her hand over his, squeezing.

“You did what you could for her, and it sounds like you gave her a good memory with a man so maybe she could find someone who treated her as good as you did.”

Jongin’s smile was sweet, like he appreciated Joonha’s comfort.

“I don’t tell you about them because… I want you to understand more about me. I don’t want you think badly of me. I wouldn’t hurt you with memories of them.”

“It sounds,” Joonha said, her voice more tremulous than she could control, “like they were important people who helped you become the Jongin who’s sitting here.”

“That’s right,” Jongin said. And he placed his other hand on top of the one she’d laid on Jongin’s fist, encasing it between his hands. Tears stung in her eyes at the warmth of it, and they sat there, breathing together. “Sometimes I’d think of you, how you were. What you looked like. It made me want to come back as soon as I could to see you again.”

To see her, not the women from his past. He’d called her beautiful, before, and she lifted his hand, pressing it against her face and holding it there, absorbing his warmth for a moment.

There was a thought in her head, amidst all the softness, with their hands clasped against her leg. And she hoped, hoped it was a question she could ask. “Did you ever want a man?”

“Even back when I told you I would be your husband, I thought I’d have to have one one day,” Jongin said. “I’ve never looked at a man, like that. I’ve seen them naked, heard them talk. In a lot of ways they frighten me. I am one, and they frighten me.”

Jongin huffed a laugh, shrugging his shoulders a little. “There’s something about women that catches my attention, makes me want. When I feel those things, it makes me know that all I want is to be able to have a wife to love.”

To love. Not just with sweet words and affections. With his body. When Jongin looked at her like that, so steady, but shy, like she was the woman who’d caught his attention. Who’d made him want. She didn’t know how that made her _feel_ , knowing Jongin wanted her, wanted to love her. She focused on Jongin’s mouth for a moment before ducking her head. She’d never forgotten that kiss, how embarrassed she’d been, how secure in Jungah she’d been. In that moment, believing that Jungah could make anything happen, that Joonha would follow her anywhere.

And what had changed? Jongin sat there with her, and though her heart beat hard, it wasn’t from fear, or worry. She wanted to know how he had loved the women in his past. How _they_ could love. She’d seen animals mating, but they weren’t animals. They were people. But there had to be ways, ones that Jongin had enjoyed very much and wanted to enjoy with her.

With _her_.

Her lips parted, ready to ask, to hear anything he had to say, no matter how shocking, or strange, or…wonderful? But she was caught, face hot, finding Jongin was smiling at her.

“I can almost hear you thinking,” Jongin teased, touching her hair.

“Wouldn’t you be afraid to hear your wife’s thoughts?” Joonha retorted.

“Not at all,” Jongin said.

She half believed him. And her head turned, listening to see if that had been her name she’d heard. It came again and she looked to Jongin.

“I—“

“I’ll return tomorrow. May I?” At her eager nod, he smiled. “Thank you,” Jongin whispered, and pressed a kiss against her cheek.

Joonha sat there alone, trembling until her mother called for her again, fingertips just where Jongin’s lips had been.

***

Joonha settled eagerly at Jongin’s side, when they were able to meet again. She’d been restless in anticipation, and inexplicably shy as Jongin caught her hand and held it. She had bathed, examining the shape of her body, places she was awkward, curved, soft. Jongin had said that he wanted her, in so many words. She wondered if she compared to his lovers, what he would think of her, if he’d be disappointed. She’d thought of _him_ , and how they could be together, and—

“I think… I think my father will agree to the marriage,” Joonha said, and Jongin’s eyes were wide.

“I have been waiting every day for word. Does that make you happy?”

“I want that more than anything,” Joonha rushed out.

“More than anything? You must know, but that despite my name, and how I dress, my body is… It’s more like yours,” Jongin said.

It was like he couldn’t bring himself to say that his body wasn’t like a man’s. Or what she’d always thought of as a man’s. He was Jongin, though, and she _never_ would have said that. He was Jongin, the man who wanted to marry her, and his body was more like hers like he said. And she didn’t know if it was a comfort to know that Jongin was Jongin, or if that in her thoughts maybe Joonha thought too highly of it.

“Are you not my friend I bathed with when I was young? I know, Jongin. I’ve thought about about what you must look like now, how you’ve changed under these clothes,” Joonha said, trailing her fingers down Jongin’s sleeve. “And I— I know.”

Her eyes slammed closed, face too hot as Jongin cooed, and she smacked out at him, heart dancing at his laugh.

“What did your thoughts end up telling you?” Jongin asked.

Joonha charged stubbornly forward, against her best judgement. “That I’ve never wanted to be anyone’s wife but yours.”

Let him think what he wanted from that. Let him know what her thoughts had been. Maybe she’d never wanted to marry a mean man, but like Jongin had said, she’d grown up expecting it. It’d been an eventuality, but one that came with fear, not something to anticipate. To cherish? She would have left her home with a stranger.

“Can we…”

Joonha leaned with him. She was going to be his wife. Truly, not just in play or in hope.

Jongin’s mouth was so soft, letting her meet him, kissing her, and letting her kiss him in return. Warmer than she had thought, more intimate than she’d remembered, and Jongin was watching her, smiling as Joonha smiled, too. It wasn’t her first kiss. And yet, it was their first together, knowing each other.

“You gave me my first kiss again,” Joonha said.

“What do you mean?”

“My first kiss when we were young.” Joonha looked to him, searching his face. “And first with a man.”

“Joonha…”

There was wetness in Jongin’s eyes when he leaned into her, kissing her. It was all she wanted, leaning into him, his arm around her, trading kisses with the chatter of birds around them and the heady knowing that soon, that would be her life. Under their own trees, Jongin could kiss her, and never have to leave her.

***

Joonha’s days began to center on meeting with Jongin. Slipping from the house and trying not to rush back out of breath, or too flushed. Trying not to call attention to herself, even when scrutiny seemed endlessly higher right from the day that Jongin’s proposal was accepted. She’d run the moment she’d been out of sight, intent on hugging him - and bursting into tears the moment his arms had tightened around her.

“I had everything prepared. Your parents were sent my reply, so we’ll know the date soon,” Jongin murmured against her hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were so worried.”

“I was, but I’m happy,” Joonha sobbed.

“I’m happy too,” Jongin told her, holding her so tightly, like they could have become one person. She’d seen the tears in his eyes, too, when he’d kissed her. When she’d gone from overwhelmed to giddy, and swamped with expectations.

Leaving him there had been the hardest thing she’d done, like she was a stone pulling away from a mountain.

Some days there was only time enough for a tight and desperate hug, Jongin cupping her face and kissing her before she had to flee back toward the house. She had to start hanging a cloth on the stones, each color telling him if she knew she could not come. Her mother thought at times she was depressed because of the wedding preparations, but it was because she hadn’t seen Jongin in days. There were too many things to do, and when she broke away, breathing in against Jongin’s neck, she was so glad.

“I should be happy for the preparations, and it means the wedding is soon, but I miss you,” Joonha said, her thigh against his when they had finally sat. She’d had to be so good, trying not to show how happy she was when her parents were impressed by his gifts. There were steps, and more steps, and Jongin was so patient, eyes so bright every time she came to him.

Joonha inhaled. “My mother has started talking of children. I think, preparing herself for talking to me about the wedding night.”

They’d spoken of it already between them, when Jongin had sat behind her at her request and explained so tenderly of how they could be together. He’d held her in his arms, letting her lean into him, feeling protected by him. He’d made it sound so beautiful, telling her her body was like a jewel just waiting to shine. It had made her ache, and want, and the days were endless, waiting.

“I’m sorry I can’t give you children of my body,” Jongin said softly. “Though there are ways that we might try. Ones that don’t include any man but me near you. We can see.”

He hastily clarified that, when Joonha stiffened.

“We can see. If we grow old together, just us two, that would be okay, too,” Joonha said, adjusting her cheek on Jongin’s shoulder.

“It would be. And… I would enjoy very much doing my best trying to give you a baby myself.”

Joonha looked up at him for a moment, blinking until the reason for his naughty grin sank in.

“Jongin,” she scolded.

“Who would blame me with such a wonderful wife?” Jongin teased. And he kissed against her cheek when she wouldn’t give him her lips. It soothed her, so she could put her cheek back against his shoulder and relax into him. The things he said— The way he made her feel, she couldn’t explain it. So light, as her skin tingled, and warm, as he tipped her head and kissed her until she was breathless.

And all those things sustained Joonha, until she took a breath, and made her bows, and married her husband.

***

The ornaments and clothes that had been put on with such care, came off with less worry. Jongin was gentle, baring Joonha’s hair first, seeing by the glow of a lamp and kissing her when she would have wanted to hide, soothing across the top of her shoulders and warming her. For every layer that she removed, so did he, her skirts, his jacket, under her watchful eye and her helping fingers. He hesitated, pausing at the binding on his chest and getting closer instead, helping to pull the cloth from her until she was nearly bare, and full of nerves against him. His hands skimmed down her bare back and made her grip his sides.

Jongin exhaled, leaning against her. “Joonha. I’ve thought of this so often.”

Heat surged in her cheeks again, and she ducked her head, only lifting it when he touched her jaw. He was still the same Jongin who kissed her then, no matter how many fewer clothes were between them. And it was the same Jongin who kept a tight grip on her hand as Joonha stepped back and let him see her. Her free hand curved at her thigh, and her head tilted as she told herself he would not judge her by his lovers. He had married _her_ and wanted _her_.

Jongin walked with her, stepping onto the softness of the bed with her, and taking both Joonha’s hands to help her sit. And Jongin sat with her, straddling her legs and nearly even with her. Close, so close that it felt like he was protecting her, and she didn’t feel so exposed to the room around them. He touched her shoulders again, searching her face.

“I would like to take the binding off of my breasts for you,” Jongin said. “If you’d prefer it on, I can put it back. Is that all right?”

“Of course,” Joonha said.

Of course it was. If he’d wanted it left, she’d have agreed so he felt safe and himself. That he wanted to show her, she wanted that also. She wanted Jongin, all Jongin wanted to share with her. After he unwound the last of his binding, he sat still and straight, and let her look her fill, without rushing her. 

The rise and fall of his chest told her his emotions were high. Not just with want, when he was showing her all of himself, down to his skin, and wanting her to accept him. She’d known, and yet hadn’t known, how looking at him would fill her with such possession and tenderness. How the sight of his body made her want to touch, and how seeing him bared to her had her thighs restless together.

Her fingers skimmed across one of the lines his binding had left on his skin, and felt him shiver, and stopped, not watching to touch where he would not want her to. “Is it possible my husband is this handsome?” Joonha asked, breathless.

Jongin laughed, touching the back of her hand. “Then you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind. Not if… If you don’t?”

“Most days, my only thoughts are they are there to be disguised away,” Jongin said, shrugging and looking down at himself. “They don’t define who I am, no matter who I am. But at least once I… I hoped to feel all my skin against you.”

“I want that, too,” Joonha said. “Can I touch you?”

Jongin nodded, and guided her hand until it cupped over his breast. His skin was so warm and so soft that she nearly forgot to breathe. Feeling his nipple stiffen against her palm, it had her inhaling as her own reacted in response. When she looked to him, awed by him, he was watching her with such intent that it nearly had her gasping.

“Jongin!”

With a trembling hand, Joonha guided Jongin’s hand to her breast, offering herself, and moaned against his mouth as he leaned in so quickly to kiss her. It felt like he surrounded her in warmth, his mouth on hers, her nipple caught between his fingers, his weight poised on her legs. It set off a set of tugs inside her that made it hard to think, hard to breathe. She whimpered against Jongin’s mouth, hand still on his chest and lost in him. He was with her, every moment as her back curved down against the mattress, arching against the cool fabric and trying to get more of Jongin against her. Breaking a kiss, he panted with her, smiling at her, tugging a lock of her hair over her shoulder and admiring her to the point of making her squirm.

“Joonha, you make me—“ Jongin stopped, shaking his head. “I want to make you feel like you make me feel.”

“Is there more than this?” she wondered. She already felt like she couldn’t think, her body a mess of unfamiliar sensations.

“So much more. First it is all that is pleasant, and all you can do is feel. It will start to tighten, and you will feel the way to let it. It is… like a held breath. A sweet ache you can finally relieve and let go. Do you trust me?”

Joonha smiled. “I trust you, Jongin.”

“Then I’ll show you,” Jongin promised.

Everything he had told her had sounded so beautiful. All the things he had learned. Her thighs were so restless as he kissed against her breasts, having to press fingers to her mouth at the scrape of his teeth and the tug against her nipples. He seemed pleased with how she responded, kissing against her quivering belly. His hands were so gentle, stroking down the outside of her thighs, dipping inside her knees, and making her whimper as he began to press them apart. His legs slipped between hers and he glanced up at her, smiling before she had to look away.

“It’s all right,” Jongin told her. “You’re beautiful, Joonha. Truly.”

His mouth touched the inside of her thigh, so close to where she felt too hot and volatile. Something shifting and pulsing inside her, and Joonha gasped in wonder as Jongin kissed against her. Joonha whimpered, her hands restless against the mattress. How was it possible to relax, to think, to _let go._ It felt like everything in her was coiling, everything focused on his kisses, and the inexplicable sweetness of his tongue as he showed her the things he had hinted at. He’d said he could please her, but she hadn’t expected to feel like she was losing control of everything but the need for him to never stop.

When the pleasure came, she wasn’t ready for it, lingering like a promise too far away, and then locking her limbs, her breath, her sight. She tried to hold onto it, slipping out of her fingers like a rush of water until it was gone, flashing through her as her whole body twitched, trying to move Jongin’s mouth from her, a desperate pulse fluttering like beating wings between her legs.

Joonha lay like the dead, her hair sticking to her face, arms lying where they had fallen after her body had given in to Jongin. He moved, until his head was near hers again, and she could hardly look at him, wanting to laugh, feeling so overwhelmed. He soothed her with strokes against her skin, until she could breathe easier. When she finally did look, they truly were laughing, Jongin stroking against her hair, grinning.

“Was it good?” Jongin asked, searching her eyes.

“It was better than anything I could have imagined,” Joonha confessed. “It feels unreal that it could be possible. Did it make you feel the same as I did?”

“Almost, at knowing I’d pleased you,” Jongin said. And his lips curved. “If you want, we can find that pleasure together.”

“Please, oh please, Jongin—“

Jongin stroked her hair and kissed her, pulling her hands against his skin so she could feel him, connect with him when her whole body was restless with too many awakened feelings. She wanted him to feel how she had, wanted to feel it again and couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t turn into flames if she tried. His mouth parted from hers, both of them reluctant and kissing again for a moment, but he sat up, exhaling slowly before undoing the ties of his trousers, and pushing them down his legs. He watched her so carefully, as though it could be a step too far, but Joonha bit her lip and nodded, reaching for him for a moment before relaxing and letting him continue.

She was seeing all of him for the first time, his slim thighs, and the dark hair between his legs as he moved closer to her. And she moved for him, arranging her, lifting one of her legs and pressing it wider as he settled above her - against her.

“Oh, Jongin!”

Jongin’s lips quirked at her little outburst, and he watched her, moving against her in gentle motions until her eyes widened at the pressure and friction. It made him grin fully, as he moved with her in that same, steady manner, different than his tongue, like he was touching so much more of her. His eyes closed for a moment, moaning her name. Her mother had said she was a vessel for her husband. It made her hands clutch, lifting to touch his back and lost in the heat of knowing Jongin was finding pleasure in her body. And that in enjoying her, he was making her ache all over again.

“Joonha.”

She didn’t know what to do, how to feel, as Jongin kissed her, watched her. 

The heat was too much, too urgent as Jongin gripped her thigh and rocked with her. Her hands gripped at Jongin’s back, gasping as all the pleasant sensations began to gather and set her alight. Joonha’s eyes widened at the sharp ache inside her at the sounds of Jongin against her, of Jongin groaning as he moved for her, and his harsh breaths. She needed Jongin not to stop, needed him a little more, and maybe it was possible she could be satisfied. Needed him as his fingers tightened on her leg, moving with increasingly frantic pace against her, until pleasure dawned like the sun, teasing with burgeoning promise as her body stiffed and her fingers curled against Jongin’s back.

Joonha exhaled a startled little sound as her body was engulfed with it, head turning, body shaking.

“Joonha!”

Jongin’s cry for her, Joonha babbled at another sudden burst of heat, rolling against her as Jongin moaned, hips urging faster before Jongin half moaned and slowed, and stilled. It was a throbbing like her own heart as they settled together, still pressed close like a comfort. Jongin kissed against her neck, against her jaw, making her sigh and stroke against the skin of his back.

“You are wonderful, most amazing wife.”

Joonha hummed. “I wish I’d known… how good it is.”

Jongin snorted, lifting his head to look at her. “I had a hard enough time without you knowing. The way you’d look at me…”

Maybe it was true. She didn’t want to think she was so shameless, but there were times Jongin had kissed her so well, she’d wanted nothing more than to settling against him and beg him for more. Yet, he’d been so gentle, and understanding, and he was so warm, and so close.

“I love you,” Joonha said.

She’d loved Jongin as long as she’d known him. Since they were small, when he had held her hand and smiled at her. When Jongin’s face crumpled, she pulled him to her. Jongin sobbed as she held his head against her breasts, tears trickling down into her own hair. She knew it wasn’t sadness. Relief. Happiness. Release. She held him until he quieted, taking deep and even breaths, and began to kiss the tears from her skin.

“You are too good to me, Joonha,” Jongin said, stroking against her cheek and blotting at the wet left on Joonha’s skin as well.

“Is it possible for a wife to be too good to her husband?”

Jongin’s glance was skeptical. “You might find new ways.”

Joonha laughed as he tickled against her side, and watched, as he rose, blowing out the lamp and leaving them in almost complete darkness. The blanket was soft, warm against her cooling skin that he slipped over her, and he was warm too against her side, his nose pressing against her cheek.

“Thank you,” he whispered to her.

There was nothing to thank her for. She would have married him a hundred times, in a hundred ways, and followed him anywhere. He was her best friend. Her husband. Jongin.

***


End file.
